Roman Has a Day
by Not A Bagel
Summary: A look into the hours leading up to "No Brakes" through the eyes of one Roman Torchwick. When Roman say's he's 'had a day' he means it. Let's see just how horrible his Monday was that week, shall we?
1. Monday Morning

"So let me get this straight, just to triple check that this is not in fact a joke; three of your men decided to go on patrol through the city in the middle of the afternoon." The boss demanded.

"Yes Sir, y'see they heard –"Johan stuttered.

He was overruled by the boss, whose usually glib manner was replaced by outrage. The boss did not appreciate being woken at 6am at the best of times – never mind before one of the most crucial days of work. Johan watched as the human Machiavelli struggled to regain his composure.

A smile slowly spread across the cheeks of The Boss – composure seemingly restored he leaned over the desk and stared right into the Faunus' eyes; "Remind me Johan; what is your job here?"

"I am Dispatch Officer and…" The lizard Faunus lisped.

The boss threw his hands in the air in mock desperation; "A dispatch officer! A man who is responsible for the movements of a set number of subordinates! Of course, how could I forget?" He slapped himself in the head – grinning like a madman.

"Now then, Johan – tell me again why 3 of those subordinates decided to leave this lovely underground _and secret_" He stressed the two words through gritted teeth;" base to patrol a city that is literally crawling with Grimm?"

Johan opened his mouth but a cane slamming onto the table at which he was sat silenced him immediately. "More concerning is the fact you've forgotten about the incident last week; y'know the one where Ursa minors invaded our base resulting in many of your friends dying horribly." He sat opposite Johan, whose eyes never left the cane. The Lizard Faunus' jaw was set but the boss saw fear in his eyes.

"Not ringing any bells? Didn't that lady friend of yours get hurt by one of those Ursas? Little cow thing wasn't she – Daisy, I always called her. Stop me when this is familiar to you Johan."

The teasing smile on the Boss' face could not have been further from Johan's expression – teeth clenched, red faced and shaking he managed to respond: "I remember. Sir."

"Good, because I'm sure you remember that _I_ had to step in and _deal_ with those Grimm _and_ the guards who lead them to us. I got blood on my new jacket Johan! Now I'm in this old ratty thing again!" He indicated the exquisitely tailored white jacket with repulsion.

"But here I am again; dealing with yet another case of guards leaving the premises and potentially leading Grimm towards us." The boss took off his bowler hat; bright red hair falling about his face, The Boss' hair had not yet been combed and as such the usual grace of the gesture was lost.

"Now it appears that the problem is not with the guards, but their Dispatch Officer. Johan, apparently Daisy's fate was not enough for you to learn your lesson about sloppiness." The Boss stood and pointed his cane at Johan who fell back off his chair.

The Faunus crawled away as The Boss advanced round the table slowly.

Roman Torchwick offered his million lien smile; "I'm sorry Johan, but since you didn't learn your lesson from the untimely death of your loved ones – I'm afraid I have to let you go." He squeezed the trigger and Melodic Cudgel thrummed a sparkling dust bolt into the Faunus' sternum.

Roman nimbly jumped backwards to avoid any potential viscera and a frown decorated his face as he raided his emergency cigar stash. His fingers made a makeshift comb as he tried to arrange his hair into something halfway respectable, before he delicately crowned himself in his hat.

Releasing a deep breath, Roman sat on the table and lit up Mistral's finest export, determined not to let this ruin his day.

* * *

><p>Outside the door stood a small Faunus, slight of build and athletic; the kid couldn't have been more than 15. He was currently engrossed in finding a way to wear both glasses and his mask simultaneously. Roman liked the cut of his gib.<p>

"You, kid." He gestured with Melodic Cudgel vaguely in his direction. The kid looked terrified for a split second before snapping of a salute.

"Y-Yes Sir?" He asked, Roman noted he was tapping his foot from nerves.

"_Runner's build and kinda flighty, might be a horse."_ He mused as he let the kid stew.

"You've been promoted to Dispatch Officer. Follow me and I'll fill you in on what you're doing." He ordered with a nonchalant wave.

"Th-Thank you Sir." He began but Torchwick plowed right on through.

"Get your scroll out because you will need to remember this and I'm not repeating it kid." Roman inspected the White Fang as he passed, noting a distinct lack of actual progress on bomb deployment. The huge cavern which had been his home these past 3 weeks stank of a hundred different barn animals and he hated every second of it. He had found his amusement where possible and Neo was always able to brighten his day - but leadership was beginning to wear him down.

"What's your name kid?" Roman asked, offering the kid a cigar and a light.

"Perry Sir." Perry replied instantly. He took the Cigar and pocketed it – a curiosity which piqued Roman's interest. He rwarded the kid with a single raised eyebrow.

"_Either he's one of those monk types or he's too professional to indulge at work. Promising" _

Roman smiled genuinely, for some reason he had a good feeling about this kid, maybe he would last more than a day; "Perry, I'll be sure to remember that. Now you're going to be in charge of making sure everybody goes where they're supposed to. It's a tough job, but it means you are second only to me."

Roman made sure the kid had kept up with notes. He handed him the introductory pamphlet he made for new Dispatch Officers, he had gone through too many to do orientation for each one.

"Now if you'd have someone clean up Johan, I'm going to sleep." He finished with a flourish and began heading towards the ruined cabin he'd claimed as a bedroom. Perry turned and was about to trot off to work before curiosity got the better of him, he suddenly shouted back to the kid, "Hey Perry, what kind of Faunus are you?"

The echo interrogated Perry multiple times before the kid yelled back, "A horse Faunus, Sir!"

Roman chuckled at the confirmation of his hunch; An exaggerated point and a winning smile accompanied his quip; "Bet the ladies love you, Kid!"

He entered his bedroom with his first genuine smile not caused by Neo thinking that maybe today wouldn't go as badly as he feared.


	2. Don't Talk About It

Today was turning out exactly as he feared.

Roman Torchwick was a man who enjoyed life. He liked simple things; freedom, injustice, ice cream and a well executed plan. He hadn't written of his chances of ice cream, but his plan was looking less executed by the day. The run down hut in which he was trying to get some sleep was the quietest place in this tomb. So when he heard footsteps approaching he prepared for the worst and prayed that it was Neo with ice cream instead.

Three sharp knocks told him that was it was not in fact Neo.

The crime lord stood, donning a fine red shirt on his way to the door. He plastered a smile on his face with the ease other's would breathe, determined that this day would not be ruined.

The door opened with a whoosh, letting in the smell of four hundred Faunus. Roman's smile never faltered for a moment as he beheld his Dispatch Officer, who saluted with formality. The spectacles were now taped to his mask.

"Perry! How's the new job?" Roman asked with ease, leaning on the door frame casually.

"My work is progressing rapidly sir. I'm here because there is a matter which I lack the authority to deal with." All the nerves had gone from his voice. In under two hours he had transformed from bumbling boy to efficient taskmaster.

"_Now he is something else."_

Roman's smile shrunk but did not leave his face, his eyes were the only sign anything was amiss, he quickly buttoned his shirt and gestured to Perry. "Come in. Give me the details while I get dressed."

"Well sir, I'm happy to report that most of the White Fang now acknowledge my authority within this operation, but after ensuring that our patrols would not go to the surface – I discovered why they were going in the first place." Perry said, adopting a sharp emotionless tone that reminded Roman of a beat cop who had tried to 'save him' as a child.

Torchwick was carefully greasing and combing his hair, making sure it was parted just right. The small hand mirror was nowhere near his usual standards, but sacrifices had to be made all around. His reflection studied Perry.

"Well don't make me guess. Why were they going topside?" Roman asked.

"This will take some explanation; upon issuing of your orders several individuals of dubious intent approached me. They took the time out of their schedule in order to 'teach me a lesson about how things really worked'" Roman imagined the sarcastic smile Perry was hiding under his mask with glee. He had such an eye for talent.

"Well after the pair had been given a thorough beating they told me that the reason our patrols are going into the town is to capture Grimm." Perry said with a hint of disbelief.

Roman donned his hat, anger radiating from his every pore. "It's not enough for Grimm to break into our base; these idiots have to actively try to bring them here? I swear Perry, I should ship them all of to a circus like the animals they are."

They stepped out mid rant and a passing Faunus retreated from the wrath of Torchwick. Roman expected Perry to call him out for his abuse of the species but instead the horse-boy agreed.

"Yes Sir, they are an utter disgrace to our organization and species – unfit to be called anything but animals."

Roman chuckled despite himself. "Damn kid, that is cold. I might be a criminal wanted in every kingdom for a number of crimes ranging from unsavory to downright twisted, but that… that is cold."

Perry immediately tried to apologize but Roman pointed Melodic Cudgel and wagged his finger in reproach. "Don't apologize to me, I like it. You have a future Kid."

Perry nodded and mumbled his gratitude as Roman strode angrily towards the trains – he had no destination or objective in mind; he just wanted to burn off some frustration. "Sir, my report?" Perry offered.

"Oh, please do. It can't get any worse."

"They opened a fighting pit with the captured Grimm on Johan's orders."

Roman stopped and Perry almost collided with his back. The world seemed to stop as Perry wondered exactly what Roman would do.

Roman didn't even know what he was going to do, his voice was barely a whisper when he asked; "Where are these pits?"

Perry had overheard the conversation Johan and Roman had had this morning. Even then Roman had not got this angry, far from it. If someone passed now Roman's face would appear perfectly neutral, serene even.

Anyone who had met Roman before would instantly know this meant bad news for someone – before praying to whatever gods they worshipped that they were not the cause of his ire.

"It's this way sir, please follow me." Perry began walking away from the train, much deeper into Mountain Glenn than the White Fang had officially been.

"With pleasure, Perry." Roman replied, some of his trademark swagger returning now that he had set his objective.

The pit was a huge basin that had naturally formed in the caves beneath Mountain Glenn. Faunus packed into makeshift stands and an announcer loudly called the action between Grimm and the elite of the White Fang. Ursa and Beowolves stewed in anger, caged monsters watching their brethren fight and die. Roman had to give his begrudging approval – the White Fang could apparently get things done.

Just as long as it wasn't what they were assigned to do.

He sighed and rubbed a brewing migraine leaning on Melodic Cudgel, the crowds were engrossed in a particular brutal contest between a scarred woman and an Ursa.

"She's fighting an Ursa unarmed, shame she couldn't put that viciousness to our actual job." Perry stated his voice neutral as ever.

"Now, Now Perry – don't look at the show. Look at the crowd! These guys have put together the best illegal fighting racket I've ever seen." He gestured wildly, "You better take notes because I want one of these after this job."

He imagined Perry's eyes widened behind that grimm mask and smirked. The kid was transitioning into a handy little minion. A few more well placed compliments and he'd be sporting a bowler hat instead of a grimm mask.

"Hey Perry, what do you think of hats?" He asked innocently, the question was to simply to keep him amused as he watched the dead Ursa and severely wounded Faunus be carried out of the pit. A plan began formulating in his head. He would need to borrow a mask though…

"I think hats should only be worn with certain clothes, sir. Formal wear and such. Casual clothing ruins the aesthetic." Perry replied.

Roman never took his eyes off the Faunus who was operating the gate and retrieving the grimm, his eyes scrutinizing every action; "Now I'm not sure if you're brown nosing, but I don't care. Good answer – give me your mask." He held out his hand without even turning round.

Perry reluctantly parted with his mask, which Roman donned with thinly veiled disgust – the smell of a stable assaulting him. He weighed up his options and decided to keep the hat on above the mask, in homage to his new apprentice.

He turned and found his horse Faunus comrade irritated by his lack of mask, the bespectacled teen was not taking kindly to this plan of his. Even before he had given him any orders.

"So Perry, I'm going to need you to go up to the commentary position. On my signal…"

He pointed a finger to the sky, his favorite musician always rocked this pose.

"Well I'm sure I don't need to spell it out." A winning smile decorated Roman's face.

"Where will you be sir?" Perry asked, as his eyes began plotting a stealthy route to the commentary booth.

"I'll be doing what I do best kid, see if you can keep track of a true master thief." Roman patted his back as he strolled into the crowd, roaring and cheering with the rest.

'_Time to go to work'_

He picked his way through the crowd and their pockets – slowly and deliberately. A growl here, bawdy joke there and he became a Faunus right terrorist. Now it was time to show everybody why he was Vale's most wanted.

"Hey Gil." Perry said as he entered. One hand sliding behind his back as he shut the door behind him.

"Hey Perry! I didn't know Johann invited ye, come an' see this; Harold's going to take on two Beowulves with only a pistol!" The man turned and pointed towards the pit and begun announcing the match up.

Perry slowly approached Gil, a long knife sliding out of his waistband. He had just finished announcing the next match when the blade slid in between his shoulder blades. Perry wished he could shut his ears as Gil coughed and spluttered, blood filling his lungs as much as panic filled his mind.

The next 30 seconds lasted forever. He had never killed before, not even in service to the White Fang. Something told him that Gil's death would stay with him forever.

His eyes found Roman, who gave him a huge thumbs up as he removed Perry's mask. The thief was in the front row of the stands and leapt into the pit with the same causal ease a child would jump into a swimming pool. Perry felt the hair all over his body stand on end as the crowd's attention all fixed on the human.

There were more than two dozen Faunus in the pit itself, with around forty onlookers…

Roman Torchwick was; well he was Roman Torchwick damnit – but could he escape from eighty angry Faunus and bloodthirsty Grimm?

Perry swore and begun to put together an escape plan.


End file.
